Chapter 1

I didn't realize the groom had changed until I walked into the banquet hall wearing my wedding dress.

It wasn't Kaelen, the man I'd been secretly in love with for ten years. Instead, it was his uncle, Caspian, the most mysterious member of the Vance family.

People whispered that he was cold-blooded and ruthless, and that a car accident three years ago had left him horribly disfigured.

Since then, he'd become a recluse, never showing his face to anyone.

"Ms. Sterling," the emcee coughed awkwardly, "please walk toward your groom."

I clutched my bouquet, the thorns of the white roses digging into my palm, but the pain didn't register at all.

Three days ago, my father's company went bankrupt, leaving us 60 million dollars in debt to the Vance family.

Richard made a deal that if a Sterling daughter married into the Vance family, the debt would be wiped clean.

I thought it would be Kaelen. After all, we'd grown up together, and he'd once promised he'd marry me.

But now, standing at the end of the aisle was a man wearing a silver mask, only the lower half of his face exposed.

The visible lines were sharp, his thin lips pressed into a hard line, like a blade drawn from its sheath.

"Not willing?" His voice was low, carrying through the microphone with a metallic chill. "You can leave. The Sterling family's debt will remain."

I walked forward.

It wasn't about the 60 million dollars. It was because I saw Kaelen sitting in the front row, with Vesper—my stepsister—right next to him, wearing a white dress almost identical to mine, that innocent smile plastered on her face.

They were holding hands, fingers locked together.

So this was all a trap. Kaelen had been with Vesper from the start, and he'd made me the stand-in bride—solving the Sterling family's debt and tossing me aside, all in one move.

And me? Like an idiot, I was still wearing the wedding dress I picked out, thinking I'd be marrying him.

*****

"I do," I said to the man behind the mask, my voice ringing out so everyone could hear. "I do. I'm willing to marry Caspian. No matter rich or poor, no matter healthy or sick, I'll stay true to him until the very end."

I saw Kaelen's expression shift. He never expected I'd actually say yes.

Caspian reached out. The ring was icy cold against my fingers.

He leaned in close, his voice low in my ear. "Lyra, are you sure? Once you board this ship, there's no turning back."

He knew my name.

Not "Ms. Sterling," but "Lyra."

I looked up at him, his eyes behind the mask as deep and mysterious as a midnight lake. "I'm sure. Honestly, does it even matter who I end up marrying?"

He smiled, his lips curling up without a hint of warmth. "Alright. Here's to a pleasant partnership."

*****

On our wedding night, Caspian didn't return to the master bedroom.

I sat on the wedding bed, listening as the sound of his engine faded into the night downstairs, finally letting out a sigh of relief.

To be honest, I knew nothing about this mysterious husband of mine, and I was more than a little afraid of him.

Every single rumor—about the car accident, the disfigurement, how cold-blooded and ruthless he was—made me want to bolt.

But there was no escape. The Sterling family's debt, my dignity—they were all on the line here.

I took off my veil and started looking around the room.

Caspian's bedroom was all black, white, and gray—so minimalist it could've been a hotel suite.

There were no photos, no personal belongings, just shelves packed with books, mostly about business and finance.

I pulled out a book at random, and a photo slipped out.

In the photo, a man in a military uniform stood in the desert, his smile bright and genuine.

He was strikingly handsome, with deep-set eyes and a strong jaw. There was a definite resemblance to the lower half of Caspian's face.

But there were no scars, no signs of disfigurement at all.

I flipped the photo over, and on the back it read: Caspian Vance, 2019, Peacekeeping Force.

2019, it was three years ago. Back then, he hadn't had the accident yet, hadn't been disfigured. He was still someone who knew how to smile, just an ordinary man.

Suddenly, the door swung open.

I jumped, and the photo slipped from my fingers, hitting the floor.

Caspian stood in the doorway, his silver mask gone, but now he wore something else—a prosthetic identity mask, so realistic it was uncanny, but his expression was stiff, like a wax figure.

"Who let you mess with my stuff?" Caspian's voice was cold as ice.

"I'm sorry, I..." I apologized.

He walked over and picked up the photo, handling it like it was something priceless.

Then he glanced at me, his eyes behind the prosthetic identity mask pitch black. "You curious?"

"A little," I admitted honestly. "You were nothing like this before."

"Before?" Caspian let out a short laugh, settling into the chair by the bed. "Lyra, do you know why I married you?"

"Because Richard told you to?" I asked.

"No," he said. "I needed someone to keep the unwanted trouble at bay.

"And you just happened to show up, happened to be someone I could control, and happened..." He paused, "to be the one Kaelen tossed aside."

His words cut deep, but Lyra kept her face steady. "So, I'm just a tool to you?" I asked.

"We're both just tools," Caspian said coolly. "I use you to keep unwanted attention at bay, you use me to get out of debt. It's a fair deal. Each of us gets what we need."

Caspian stood up and walked toward the door. "Master bedroom is yours, I'll take the study. Starting tomorrow, we act like a loving couple in front of others, but when it's just us, we keep to ourselves. Any objections?"

"Nope," I replied, "but I do have a question."

"Go ahead," he said.

"Your face," I said, gesturing to the edge of his mask. "Is it really ruined, or are you just hiding it from everyone?"

His back stiffened for a moment.

"That's none of your business," he said, his voice even colder than before. "Remember our deal. Don't cross the line."

The door clicked shut behind him, and I lay back on the big bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Caspian, who was he, really? Why did he live behind a mask? Why did he still hang onto that photo from three years ago? And why...why did he choose me?

Those questions would slowly get answered in the days to come. But by then, it would be too late for me to run.